


Breakwall Part Four

by Domino_Darkwolf



Series: Breakwall [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Kitchen Sex, NSFW, Porn, Porn With Plot, Season/Series 02, Series, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Vaginal Sex, smut series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:17:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domino_Darkwolf/pseuds/Domino_Darkwolf
Summary: Thirty-seven minutes until dinner; what's a young woman and a tall Winchester to do with themselves while they wait?





	Breakwall Part Four

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PiscesPenName](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/gifts).



Nora and Hendrix showed Sam the view of the freshwater sea from the top of a sand bluff at the end of a forest trail. They took him to a secluded beach where Sam waded to his knees in the calm waters, and Hendrix bounded in and out. They showed him a secret cemetery in a forgotten wood, which Sam seemed less interested in – entirely unenthralled, in fact – and so they moved on through a new trail with a new topic to a bluff with a new view.

Each place brought Nora ideas about unlocking his belt buckle, shoving him against a tree or into the sand. But she resisted her urge. She had come on strong enough as it was, she didn’t want to push too hard. Not with Sam. She recognized his need for breadth, for regeneration, and happily gave it to him.

Plus, there was the way his face lit up every time he looked at the watery horizon from every angle. It was boyish in its wonder, a marvel that always transcended into peace. His chest would rise with not just air, but a _real_ breath, his demeanor would balm. She didn’t want to impose on his moment of tranquility. His reaction had made it clear enough he got so little of it.

Nora would have shown him more, but the sun began its leisure descent to the horizon, and, expectedly, appetites were snowballing.

“I’ll cook,” she had volunteered before the idea had a chance to actually set in her own mind. It didn’t really hit her, what she had done, until after Sam agreed.

He offered to help, but she was determined to make good on her offer.

Right up until the smoke alarm went off.

“Pizza then?” Sam asked with a chuckle, then coughed as a wave of black smoke roiled from the depths of the oven.

Nora coughed as she pulled the kitchen window open, then waved a red dish towel around while she turned the ceiling fan on high.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I probably should have mentioned that culinary isn’t my forte.” She coughed again, waved the air in front of her face, then gave Sam an exaggerated pout that came with a set of puppy eyes that could only rival his own.

“It’s okay,” Sam said, his timbre amused but asuring. He hunched to gather her into his arms, and she felt like she could melt; steadfast but gentle, comforting in its warmth and scent of wooded spice and lake.

“Take-out is fine,” he assured her, pulling away from her at her dismay. His lips curved in a playful grin. “Unless you wanted to give cooking a second try?”

Nora responded by playfully flicking her towel at him. He half turned and put his hands out with a chuckle and a smile.

They settled on takeout from a nearby tavern. Nora called it in while Sam settled into a kitchen chair with a freshly opened beer. Hendrix came by to give Sam an affectionate bump with his nose before meandering into the living room where he laid down in the day’s last remaining show on the carpet by the couch.

“It’ll be ready for pickup in forty minutes,” Nora announced, snapping her phone shut. “Which gives us about 37 minutes.”

Sam took a sip from his beer, watching her untie her apron and release her long wavy hair from its bind.

“Thirty seven minutes to do what, exactly?” he asked, lowering the glass bottle to rest on the table.

Nora smiled, sweet and smoky. She ran her hands up through her hair and tostled it, letting the platinum-on-black locks spill around her shoulders. His eyes took on a shy hunger as he watched from his chair the sway in her hips as she strolled forward.

“I don’t know,” she said, turning her eyes up in faux thought, stepping between his legs. “We could go back to the lake. Or.” She stopped at the edge of the chair and, with a smooth motion, straddled one of his legs. “We could play a game.” She straddled the other. “Or we could watch TV.” She brought her face level with his, ghosted herself over his ever-so-slightly rising denim. Her head swayed forward slow, appeared like she was coming in for a kiss, but, at the last second, she nudged her head to the right. “Or.” Her words were hardly more than a whisper against his cheek. “We could do something else.”

She pulled back, gaged Sam’s expression. His eyes – a goldish blue in this light – met hers for a glimpse of a moment before he lurched forward to her. His lips came to hers in a fever, his good hand to her back where he urged her down, brought her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, teased her fingers through his hair. Her hips rocked against his in slow tides, and the bulge rose between them.

With their lips still locked in feverish tango, Nora redirected her hands to his belt. It was easier this time, undone with a swift movement of fingers in the space of four seconds. His midsection jerked in anticipation as she undid the button, contracted as she slipped down his fly. He shifted his weight to allow her space to tug his jeans down far enough to free his ever growing erection from denim. She slipped her hand through the opening in his boxers and pulled him out, his hardening shaft in her grasp.

Nora stroked his long cock with her hand, steady and adagio. Sam broke their kiss with a gasp sucked through his teeth. His forehead fell against hers, his hands gripped the back of her head as his jaw slackened in a rolling moan. A smile brushed against Nora’s face at his mounting ache; the hitched breaths that traced her cheek with soft moans, the gasps that thundered in his throat. God they were hot, those responses to her touch; rapturous reactions that sent amatory twitters between her legs.

She increased pace, still steady and firm. His pelvis quaked, his jaw tightened, his breaths shorted. He brushed his forehead against hers, tilting it to the side before pulling in a staggered breath. His lips found hers again, and they kissed as Sam’s hands traced her arms from shoulder to elbow where they wandered to the hem of her t-shirt. They broke away long enough for him to pull the article over her head and discard it inside-out on the kitchen floor. She returned her hand to his shaft, and his lips made contact with her jaw where they traced it down to her chin, placing kisses along her neck, her clavicle. Nora gasped in approval of the velvety caress upon her skin, rolled her hips forward in need. She placed her free hand on the back of his head as he kissed down to the ridge of her black bra and traced it to the valley of her breasts. Her head fell back as she exhaled a satisfied sigh, her flesh beneath his lips buzzed electric.

When Sam pulled away, he used a gentle urgency to push her from his lap, but only for long enough to allow Nora to slip out of her shorts — sensual but hurried — and her sky blue panties. She straddled him again, meshing her lips with his, felt his penis brush between her thighs. Her hand grasped it firm, guided it to her opening where she teased them both with his tip. Slowly she sank down on him, shivered in joy as he filled her to the brim.

In unison they inhaled staggered breaths, forgetting their kiss in the new rapture. The _best_ rapture. Nora rolled her hips forward, pulling from Sam another gasp, then back. Her hips found a steady rhythm that massaged her walls with his member, brought out another gasp of her own. God _damn_ he felt incredible.

Sam put his left hand along her bare bottom, pressing firmly in encouragement, his casted right tangled through her hair. Nora added a curve to her lap dance, twisting her hips in small circles, twirling him inside of her, and he moaned in response. His fingers dug into her soft ass as she fucked him on the kitchen chair that squeaked with every measured thrust she gave. Sam’s eyes squeezed shut, his head tilted back, his adam’s apple moved past a hard swallow. And then he shot forward, moving his hands to her midsection, wrapping his solid arms around her tiny frame.  
Holding Nora still and snug against him, his shaft still deep inside of her, Sam rose to his feet. He kissed her open mouthed as he swung her around and, without losing contact, set her upon the table. He adjusted her position, spread her legs wide with a luminous touch, and Nora reveled in his lack of hesitation.

His left hand found purchase on the table just beside her, his right arm wrapped around the small of her back. And he thrust hungrily, deep and hard.

“Ooh, gods!” The cry escaped Nora’s mouth with an airy gasp. He pulled back slow, then repeated the heartstopping thrust, and she cried out again. “Holy shit.” The words snuck out in a baited breath. “Gods, yes!”

Sam slipped halfway out, dove forward, repeated in an automatic cadance. Each thrust elicited a panting moan from her throat as ecstasy beat against her with every thrust of his cock. A grunting moan rumbled in Sam’s throat, his breath staggered in her hair. 

He was leading her up a peak, and fast.

Nora braced for orgasm, no more than a few strokes away if he kept his rhythm steady. Her fingers grappled fistfuls of hist shirt, her head titled back. And, in an airy cry, she came.

Sam wasn’t far behind. His jaw flexed, then fell, his hips stilled and he came inside of her. A grunting moan of a sound exhaled from his throat as his cock throbbed against her walls, and, for a moment, it looked like he would collapse right on top of her.

Once the shot of near nirvana wavered enough to see, Sam pulled himself out and staggered back a half step. Nora sat up straight, blinking back the sparks of light that swam across her vision. She drew in a deep breath, and, looking at Sam, exhaled with a giggle of a sigh.

“Yep. Keeping you,” she said, half jokingly, and Sam chuckled as he re-fastened his jeans. They respired in round, Sam finding a place to rest on the table beside Nora, Nora searching for her pants without registering that was what she was looking for. “I think you fucked my ability to stand.”

A breezy crow lifted from Sam’s lips, and he brushed his hair back.

“I can go get the food if you’re too tired,” he offered, the rise and fall of his chest not quite settled. Nora grinned.

“I wasn’t being overly literal,” she said, leaning into him. “But if you’re trying to get yourself in some kind of Misery situation, keep sweet-talking.”

Sam laughed. He turned his head to look down at Nora as she brought her face closer to his. They exchanged what was meant to be a peck, but lasted, elegant and honey, for close to a full minute. Their foreheads came together, their eyes cinched in sobering tones of adore.

“It’s probably a good thing you’re a tourist,” she told him with a hint of regret in her voice. “A girl could really fall for a guy like you.”

A faded, rosy hue entertained Sam’s cheeks, and he broke away from her.

"Naw," he said, his timbre almost too dark to be sheepish. "I'm damaged goods."

"Oh, honey," Nora replied, keeping her tone lighthearted. "If you don't think damaged isn't a beacon, you really don't know much about women." She paused to give him an affectionate kiss on his cheek before adding a sultry; "But I can teach you."

Sam blushed and flashed her a true grin.

"I don't doubt that."


End file.
